Hit the Ground Running
by OliviaSalem
Summary: Addison thought all was lost when Atlanta fell and she was cut off from her sister during the ZA. However, an attack in the woods one night brings things full circle and even throws in a whole new element she never realized was missing... Some canon here and there, mostly AU. Daryl/OC. M for some language and violence.
1. Chapter 1

Hey all! This is my first Walking Dead fic, and my first fan fic on this website for that matter. Be kind, review, and thanks for reading. I own Addison and Addison only. Cheers, and happy reading!

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I woke up to screams erupting around me.

I had been curled up under a tree, huddled under my checked flannel shirt in an uncomfortable half-sitting position when I heard them. They startled me out of my half-dazed state, propelling me to my feet unsteadily. Blearily, I started towards camp, but stopped as more screams rang out through the pitch black night. _Walkers._

I debated for almost fifteen seconds whether to try and help, but my thoughts were abruptly interrupted as I heard shuffling noses behind me and gagged involuntarily as the stench of rotting flesh filled my nostrils. I whirled, yanking the machete off my belt and swinging it in one clean motion. It cleaved off half of the walker's head, and that decided it for me.

I grabbed my ratty backpack off the ground with one hand and ran – I ran away from the screams still drifting through the night from camp, zig-zagging through the dark woods and trying to control my breathing. I dodged the odd walker here and there, putting two down with my machete when they got too close, but soon made it to an open road that was clogged with cars. Staying along the edges under the cover of trees, I started to slowly make my way down it, exhaustion creeping through me. I had no idea where I was, one bottle of water, a machete, and a backpack filled with odds and ends. No gun, no map, no food. In essence, I was screwed.

The road was relatively empty of both humans and walkers and it seemed to stretch on forever, a maze of abandoned cars and garbage. I didn't know where it headed, but I knew I was walking north as the sun began to tinge the sky pink on the horizon and figured that was as good a direction as any. I trudged doggedly, sweat starting to bead up as the sun slowly rose into the sky.

When I heard the car engine approaching behind me I whirled in defense, machete raised. I had moved closer to the road as I walked that morning, not sure whether it was worse to be out in the open or risk getting grabbed by a walker hiding in the brush. The car that was approaching was a mint green Hyundai SUV that had obviously seen better days. It was covered in dust and dents, and was so muddy I couldn't even see in the windshield to get a look at the drivers. Every fiber in me screamed at me to run, but my rubbery legs wouldn't cooperate.

"Miss?" a man's voice called, and both front doors of the SUV swung open. "Miss, are you alright? Are you bit?" I began to slowly back away, machete still raised threateningly. I knew I must have looked like a mess – my jeans were dirty and both knee were busted out, my hair was in a ratty bun, and I probably had dirt everywhere you could see skin. I hadn't been able to clean up in days. "Miss, let us help you." A short, stocky man in a tattered "Police" baseball cap slowly approached me, his hands raised in defense.

"I'm not bit," I croaked out. My throat felt like I had swallowed a pound of dust, and black spots began to swim in front of my eyes. I felt myself wavering, the three days without food finally taking their effect. I blinked furiously, trying to focus on the men approaching me.

"Miss," the stocky man repeated, but the taller man next to him suddenly stopped him with an outstretched arm, peering at me.

"Addison?" he said softly, and I tried to focus my eyes on his blurry face now. My vision was obviously playing tricks on me, or the heat had gotten to my brain. I took a few wobbly steps toward them, cocking my head in confusion.

"Rick?" I mumbled in disbelief, before the world tilted crazily and I felt my legs give way. Strong arms caught me before I hit the ground, and everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

When I woke up, I was in an unfamiliar tent and it was dark again. I sat up with a start, muffling the shriek building in my chest. Someone had removed my scuffed brown motorcycle boots and I yanked them back on, closing my eyes for a moment to quell the dizziness that clouded my head. Listening carefully, I heard voices murmuring and the low crackle of a small campfire.

Taking a deep breath, I slipped back into my flannel shirt, which was folded neatly next to the air mattress I had been lying on. My machete was nowhere to be found and I fought down a whimper. I couldn't see my backpack either, which meant I was basically defenseless against whomever – or whatever – was out there.

Hardly daring to breathe, I crept to the entrance of the tent and slowly, slowly pulled the zipper to allow myself space to crawl out. I slipped out carefully and was about to sprint towards the woods, away from the fire, when someone stepped into my path. "You ok?"

In my panic, all I could register were piercing blue eyes in a very tanned face to go along with the southern accent. I started to backpedal, heading in the opposite direction, and tripped over a root stupidly. I slammed to the ground, wincing as my elbow cracked into a large rock. "Whoa," the man said, bending down towards me. I flinched, wishing desperately that I had my machete with me. He gazed at me for a moment before speaking again. "You're alright," he said quietly, holding out a hand. "I ain't gonna hurt you."

I stared at him for a second. He had shaggy brown hair and a rather scraggly goatee, and was wearing a cutoff flannel shirt and dirty jeans. His eyes, however, were soft as they took me in. I swallowed and reached for his hand, which was calloused but warm. He gently pulled me to my feet. "Name's Daryl," he said, letting go of my hand and taking a step away from me.

"Daryl?" I heard a shrill voice ring out and rapidly approaching footsteps. I fought the urge to run again and peered over the man's shoulder. "Daryl, is she up? Addison!" My knees went weak again as I recognized the woman running towards me across the darkened camp. "Addison!" My sister threw her skinny arms around me, yanking me into a hug so tight I could barely breathe. I hadn't seen her in months, since the world had gone to shit.

"Lori," I managed before a dry sob escaped me. I could feel hear tears on my skin too, and hugged her back as tightly as I could. "I looked for you. I thought you were _dead_. I thought you were dead!" We rocked back and forth for a while before breaking apart. "How did you… how did you find me?"

"Rick found you," she murmured in reply, tucking a loose strand of my curly brown hair – so similar to her own – behind my ear. I flinched for the second time that night and her eyes narrowed in concern. "Are you alright?"

Before I could answer, arms were wrapped around my waist. I looked down to see Carl hugging me, pressing his face into my rib cage. "Carl!" I practically shouted as tears of relief began to slip down my face. I bent down and picked my now-heavy nephew up, clutching him to me. "Oh, god." I peppered his face with kisses as he squirmed, laughing. He was wearing Rick's sheriff's hat, and I swear, he had grown six inches since I had last seen him. Finally, I set him down and Rick stepped up, his arm around Lori. He was thinner and had a more haggard look about him, but his eyes were still familiarly warm.

"Addy," he said, pulling me into a hug. "Glad to see you're awake." His voice choked up and I felt more hot tears spill over onto my cheeks. Rick, Carl and Lori had been my only family; our parents were both gone. "Come sit down and have something to eat, meet everyone." Lori tucked me under her lanky arm and I stumbled, my legs still slightly weak. We approached a warm campfire; a gaggle of people were huddled around it, and I gratefully sat down in the spot Lori gently guided me to.

"When was the last time you ate?" she asked me softly as she handed me a tin bowl full of franks and beans. I shrugged, taking a small mouthful and then a large gulp of water from the cup she offered me.

"A few days?" I said half-heartedly. I dropped my gaze back to my plate, my appetite waning. "I'm not sure." Firelight bounced off of us, illuminating our almost matching hazel eyes and casting weird shadows on our faces. The camp was neatly set up, I observed. There were tents clumped in a semi-circle under trees, and a large RV parked to the side. It looked as if they had been here for a while.

"Everyone," Rick said, standing up next to Lori and pulling Carl to his side. The group of people around the campfire all turned to face him expectantly; it was apparent that Rick was the leader in the group. "Everyone, this is Addison. This is Lori's little sister." He paused for a second, unable to continue, and then cleared his throat. "Addy, this is Carol, Andrea, Dale, Glenn, and Daryl." He motioned to the man who had helped me up earlier, who was sitting a ways away from the fire, fiddling with what looked like a homemade arrow in the shadows.

"Lori's sister?" the short-haired brunette named Carol said softly in disbelief. "It's a miracle. A true miracle." Lori ducked her head at this and I saw tears in her hazel eyes. When the shit had hit the fan, we had been able to stay in contact for almost 48 hours via cell phones. However, signal had soon gone out and I never made it to the outskirts of west Atlanta where I was supposed to meet her. "How did you find us?" Carol asked, sipping something hot from a mug.

I set my half-full bowl of food down on the ground, pulling my knees to my chest and leaning closer to my sister. "I didn't," I replied quietly. "Rick found me."

"She was wandering down the highway," Rick said, settling down next to Lori and picking up his own bowl of food. "Shane and I came upon her on our rounds. You passed out and Shane caught you, do you remember that?" He peered at me through the semi-darkness.

"Not really," I admitted. "I didn't remember anything when I woke up. I didn't know where I was." I shuffled my feet uncomfortably and quickly drank down the rest of the water Lori had given me. My throat was sore and I had a snarling headache.

"Where did you come from?" the muscular blonde named Andrea asked. She was peering at me not unkindly, her blue eyes shrewd in the firelight. Dale, the older man sitting next to her in a fishing hat, and Glenn, an Asian in a loud flowered shirt, were gazing at me curiously as well.

"Um." I swallowed, flicking my eyes to Lori. She was watching me carefully; she knew something was wrong. She always did. We had grown up together as best friends, only two years apart in age, and our parents used to claim we had a weird sort of telepathy. When I had moved away to Savannah, I used to get weird pangs of discomfort and sure enough, she would call me minutes later, crying. The day Rick had been shot I had been on pins and needles all day, a feeling of dread sitting heavily on my chest.

"I was with a group," I said uncomfortably. "I lived in Savannah, you know, and things got really, really bad there. I heard there were refugee camps in Atlanta and Lori said she and Carl were heading there, so me and my roommates packed up some supplies and headed that way too, to meet them. But when we got to the city…" I trailed off, remembering that absolutely terrible day.

"There was nothing," Dale said sadly, and I nodded at him. His eyes were sympathetic under his tan fishing hat.

"We didn't know where to go." I swallowed hard, a lump in my throat. "We got ambushed just outside the eastern border of the city by a huge group of walkers. My roommates… both my roommates… they didn't make it." Tears stung my eyes and I blinked furiously, trying to quell my emotions. Lori slipped an arm around my shoulders, pressing her face into my arm briefly.

"Ginny and Mark?" she said in a toneless voice. I nodded, and she sucked in her breath. "I'm so sorry, sweetie." I waited a little bit before continuing; everyone around the campfire was silent. All I could hear was the fire crackling and an owl hooting somewhere in the surrounding woods.

"We were right on the outskirts, a bunch of people were trying to leave and were just walking alongside the cars and this… this _herd_ of walkers just swarmed everyone. We all tried to run, but…" I trailed off and swallowed again before continuing as disgust rose in my throat. "Anyway, I ended up with a group. I figured, safety in numbers, right?"

"What happened?" Rick asked me in a low voice, his blue eyes piercing me. His face was tense in the dim light from the fire and he had stopped eating. Carl was also staring at me as well and all of a sudden, I knew I couldn't tell anyone but Lori what had happened.

"It was bad," I said in a barely audible voice. "I couldn't get away. I was with them for almost six months and we kept going back and forth between trying to find a place to fortify and breaking for north. They got attacked last night and I used it as a chance to get away." I stared into the fire, lost in dark thoughts.

Lori suddenly stood, casting a worried glance at Rick. "We're going to take a walk," she said easily but her eyes betrayed her. She pulled me to my feet before I could protest and I wound my long hair into a neater bun as I waited for her to lead the way.

"Can I come?" Carl asked eagerly, springing to his feet. Rick put a hand on his arm and shook his head.

"Give your mom and Aunt Addison some time, ok buddy?" Carl sat down, obviously disappointed, and I forced a smile for him. I had always been the 'cool' aunt – I had spent a lot of time with Carl when he was growing up, even having him for weekends in Savannah every now and then.

"Me and you – we've got a date for squirrel hunting tomorrow, got it?" I said, pointing at him. Carl's face lit up – mine and Lori's father had taught us all how to shoot the pesky squirrels that destroyed his bird feeders with a .22. "I could go for a squirrel burger." Carl snickered and waved at me as Lori led me away from the fire, into the shadows. We made our way over to her big blue tent in silence, her arm still tightly wrapped around my shoulders.


	3. Chapter 3

"What happened to you?" she asked, sitting down on the ground outside the tent. I sat heavily next to her, avoiding her eyes and playing with a dried leaf. I crumbled it in my fingers, watching the tiny pieces flutter to the ground. "You're as thin as a rail and you jump every time someone tries to touch you. What happened, Addy?"

I couldn't speak; a lump in my throat choked me half to death and it took me almost a full five minutes to compose myself enough to get the words out. "I couldn't get away, Lor," I repeated. "It was a big group, lots of guys. Lots. There were only five women including me and we… we…" I took several gulps of air. "It was bad." Tears began to betray me, clogging my voice. "I can't talk about it. I'm sorry." I looked up at the dark sky, avoiding her eyes.

"Did they…" Lori managed, her face horrified, and I nodded. "Oh, God. Oh my God, Addison, come here." She pulled me to her and I buried my face in her bony shoulder. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." She rocked me back and forth for a long time until my breathing steadied out. "You're safe now, Addy."

"Where did you go?" I asked suddenly, pulling back from my and wiping my eyes. "I looked for you, when we got to the west side of the city." She blanched. An owl hooted closer overhead and I heard a flutter of wings as it swooped from tree to tree.

"Shane… he told us Rick had died." I gasped, covering my mouth with a dirty hand. "He was wrong. It was a misunderstanding. Shane took me and Carl and we tried to get to Atlanta, to meet you, but never made it. We ended up banding together with these people and we've been on the move since then. We've lost a lot of people. A lot." Her voice quavered for a minute. "Most recently Carols' little girl, she got lost in the woods during an attack. We're still looking for her." I felt a surge of nausea and shut my eyes, sucking in air through my nose.

We were both quiet for a while, gazing up at the stars. Without all the light pollution, the night sky was crystal clear and the stars were bright pinpoints in the velvety blackness. "Where are we anyway?" I asked, suddenly realizing our small camp was set up a few hundred yards from a large white farmhouse.

"We're at a farm off route 9," Lori replied. "We had an… accident. Carl was shot, and the man who owns this farm – Hershel Greene – is a doctor. He saved Carl and we've stayed on until we figure out our next move." I stared at her dazedly, trying to take everything in. "You look exhausted, Addy. Come to bed."

At that point, exhaustion did wash over me again and I felt another wave of dizziness. "Ok," I mumbled. She led me into their tent and settled me down onto a plush sleeping bag in the corner. I kicked off my boots and plopped my head onto the pillow, my eyes already closing. "Where's my machete?" I asked sleepily. Lori brought over my backpack, setting it down next to me.

"Rick cleaned it for you. You and it were covered in walker blood when he found you." She sat down next to me, gently placing a hand on my forehead. I tried not to pull back but she could sense my discomfort and pushed my hair off of my face.

"You're ok now," she repeated. "You're safe with us, with our group. I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you, Ads." Her hand was warm on my forehead and I relaxed into her familiar touch, my eyes fluttering shut once more. Before long, I had drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up again, it was bright and sunny and the tent was starting to get hot. I squinted against the light, judging it to be almost mid-morning, and realized Carl was sitting in the tent with me. He was playing with my machete and staring at me, obviously waiting for me to wake up. "Hey squirt," I said, my voice still gravelly with sleep. "Put that down, you got it?" He set my machete down obediently and crawled closer to me.

"Can we get some squirrels?" he asked, rocking back on his heels. His face was still innocent, covered in freckles, and excitement shone out of his blue eyes. He was wearing jeans, a checked shirt, and Rick's sheriff's hat. It was too big, but it looked endearing on him. He also had a small knife clipped to his belt.

"Let me get some breakfast first," I replied, sitting up with a groan. I pulled on my boots but left the flannel I had been wearing in the tent, sticking to my dirty white tank top; it was too hot out. Carl proudly led me over to the fire, where Carol, Lori, and a stocky black man were cooking what looked like eggs. I took a deep drink of water out of the cup Lori handed me, and the black man stood, offering me a hand.

"I'm T-dog," he said politely, and I shook his hand tentatively. "Welcome. I didn't get to meet you last night because I was out patrolling with Shane. Lori told us all about you, we're glad Rick found you." He smiled at me genuinely and I immediately liked him.

"Me too," I replied, sitting down next to Lori. "And it's nice to meet you." I felt movement next to me and turned to see Daryl reaching for a tin mug; he filled it with water almost silently. His blue eyes flickered over to me and suddenly I realized they were taking in the purple bruises that I now remembered were pebbled around my neck and collarbone. I flushed, pulling my long dark hair out of its messy bun and pulling it around me to cover them. Daryl said nothing, just downed his water and wiped his face with a wet cloth Lori handed him before moving off.

"Where's everyone going?" I asked as I watched most of the group huddle around an old truck. I studied them curiously, taking the plate of eggs Carol handed me. She was wearing a pretty flowered blouse, and I noticed how blue her eyes were in her tired face. She froze as I spoke and a million emotions swept across her face at once.

"To look for Sophia," she answered in a soft voice. I gulped, almost choking on my bite of eggs at my own stupidity.

"I'm sorry," I managed, and glanced at Lori. She had a look of unbearable sadness on her face as she continued to dish eggs onto a plate for Carl. "Can I help look?" Several groups of people were now making their way towards the woods. Dale was standing on the top of the huge old RV, binoculars to his face and a gun slung around his shoulder.

"First we're going to have Hershel take a look at you," Lori said firmly. I started to protest and she held up a hand, pointing to my eggs. "Don't argue with me, Addy, that's how it is. Now eat." I bit my lip to keep from smiling; some things would never change. Lori had always been fiercely protective of me growing up. She hated that I had moved to Savannah and worried about me constantly; in fact, before everything had gone to hell I was considering moving back to Atlanta to be closer to her.

After I had eaten, I helped my and Carol wash dishes in an old tin tub before Lori took my arm and we walked up to the large white farmhouse. It was beautiful, despite the bottom floor windows being boarded up. It had a large wraparound porch filled with antique wooden rocking chairs and wind chimes, and I immediately liked it. The screen door swung open and a tall girl with a brunette bob stepped out. She was wearing tight jeans and a pretty purple top, clutching a basket to her chest.

"Addison, this is Maggie Greene. One of MyIl's daughters," Lori said, and the girl extended a hand. We shook politely.

"Glenn told me your sister had turned up," she said, studying me with a friendly look on her face. "Welcome. My dad is waiting for you two, I'm heading up to feed the chickens and pick the last of the tomatoes." She nodded at me once more before loping down the porch steps and off towards a large rickety barn near the edge of the property.

"Maggie has a little…thing. With Glenn," Lori whispered conspiratorially to me. I grinned.

"Good for them. The world's gone to shit, at least they can still get laid." Lori smacked me but I could tell she was relieved that some of my old personality was beginning to bubble to the surface.

We made our way into the large house; despite the approaching heat of the day it was cool and airy, and our footsteps echoed off the polished wooden floors. I peered nosily into rooms that we passed; all of them were filled with beautiful old furniture and the walls were all painted a soft eggshell white. "Hershel?" Lori called softly down the hallway.

"He's in here," a woman's voice replied, and we stepped into a large country kitchen. There I met Jimmy, Beth, Patricia, and none other than the famous Hershel. He had white hair and moved a bit stiffly, but looked tough as nails. He kind of reminded me of Santa Claus. He eyed me for a moment before leading me into an empty bedroom off the kitchen with Lori in tow.

He sat me down on the bed and checked me over, making a few concerned noises as he came across various cuts and deep bruises. He was particularly concerned with the nasty gash on my abdomen that I had stitched up myself. "None of them look infected, but you're very thin," he said, stepping back with a look of concern on his face. "You need to eat and rest. You hear that, Lori? Don't let her tramp off into the woods. She's very weak." He was right; just walking up to the house had tired me a good deal and I felt ready to lie down again. "But you'll be just fine." I saw Lori's face as she took everything in; it was haunted. I hated it.

"Where did you get those bruises?" she suddenly asked, gesturing to the ones on my neck that I had seen Daryl glance at earlier. I dropped my head to my chest, avoiding her eyes as a sick feeling washed over me. "Hershel… she was…" she paused, almost unable to finish. "She was raped by some of the people in the last group she was with." The words came up in a panicked jumble.

Hershel glanced at me sharply; traitorous tears were building in my eyes. "Is there any chance you might be pregnant?"

I shook my head, swallowing hard. "It was just one of them a few times, and he used protection," I said dully. "He said the last thing anyone needed was a screaming baby. He was careful." I shut my eyes in revulsion and Lori pulled me into her arms. We were silent for a while and Hershel tactfully turned away to rearrange the knick knacks on the antique dresser. Finally, I regained composure and sat up straight, wiping my eyes. He reminded me that I needed a good deal of rest and solid meals before giving me a gentle, reassuring smile.

"You've got good people here," he said kindly, his blue eyes twinkling. "You're safe." He turned and headed off to the kitchen, where I could hear Beth and Patricia chatting easily as they continued to shuck corn at a large table.

Lori and I headed back down to the campsite, where Lori promptly deposited me with Carl and an old checkerboard. "No running off," she warned, and then went over to the opposite side of the camp to help Carol with the laundry. I played checkers with Carl almost the entire morning, and ended up dozing off in a warm, sunny patch of grass after lunch. I awoke to Lori bending over me, telling me that the scouting groups were heading back and dinner was almost ready.

I went over to help her chop vegetables at an old wooden stump that had been designated as a chopping block. She caught me up on what had happened to them since they left Atlanta, especially what had happened since arriving at the farm. I listened carefully but didn't volunteer any information on what I had been through, although I knew she was extremely worried.

"Tell me about everyone," I requested as I chopped up a carrot roughly. "Like, a little overview." The sun was slowly starting to set and I knew the group would be returning relatively soon from scouting.

"Well, let's see." Lori stopped cutting up my stack of carrots, seemingly lost in thought. "Andrea was a lawyer. She was teamed up with Dale, and you know what happened to her sister… since then she's sort of faded. Gotten angry and bitter." A shadow passed over her face but she continued. "Glenn, he's incredibly smart. Saved Rick in a tight spot in Atlanta, actually. He's got a little thing going with Maggie, like I said. T-Dog – he's incredibly nice. He's pretty level-headed, too. We can always count on him to be our eyes."

I had finished my carrots at this point and reached for some of Lori's, motioning for her to continue. "Dale, he's the father figure. Lost his wife to cancer a few months before this all happened. You know Shane… Carol. Carol's husband was with us and he died at the quarry." Lori's face hardened. "Secretly, I'm glad he did. He beat her and he was a bastard." My eyes widened but I said nothing; Carol's personality made a lot more sense now.

"And Daryl, he keeps his distance. I mean, he does his part but it's clear he's just not part of the group." She stood, brushing her hands on her pants. I processed this information as I too, slowly stood and swept the carrots into a bowl, following Lori back to the fire.

Dinner was surprisingly pleasant. I became re-acquainted with Shane, who I vaguely remembered from Rick and Lori's wedding – he had gotten absolutely shitfaced and hit on everything in a skirt. I found myself sitting between Lori and Carl, warm and full and chatting pleasantly with Dale, and a sense of comfort began to slip over me. It was something I hadn't felt in months and I welcomed it fiercely.

The next few days were relatively uneventful. I begged Lori and finally she conceded to let me help her and Carol with the chores; I still felt restless, and wished I could go out scouting for Sophia with the rest of the group. Lori kept me on a short leash, however, insisting that I needed rest. On the third day, Carl and I snuck into the woods and took turns pinging rocks at squirrels since shooting a gun would create unnecessary noise. I managed to hit three and he hit one, and we were greeted with a round of applause when we finally headed back to camp.


	4. Chapter 4

I wasn't sleeping well and had taken to slipping out of the tent at night, sitting by the embers of the dying fire to think in peace and quiet. One night, I tossed and turned for almost two hours before finally giving up. "Screw it," I whispered to myself. I yanked on the comfortable sweatshirt Maggie had given me – Georgia nights were cool, even as summer stretched into September. I slipped out of the tent, away from Rick's soft snores and Carl's occasional whimpers, and made my way over to where the fire had burned brightly earlier that night. I sat down and stared into the embers. I had only been there for a few minutes when I heard a branch crack behind me; in seconds, I was on my feet with my machete drawn.

"Shouldn't be out here alone," a gruff voice said, and I squinted into the darkness to see Daryl approaching. "It's dangerous." I slid my machete back into its sheath, sighing in relief and plopping back down onto the ground. I pulled my feet up under me for warmth and hugged myself.

"I'm alright," I said evenly, pushing dirt back and forth with the toe of my boot. Daryl said nothing, but sat down across from me on the other side of the fire. We were both silent for some time before he spoke again. He was sharpening what looked like another homemade arrow, and didn't take his eyes off of his work.

"You gonna stick around?"

"Yup," I replied. I poked a stick into the embers of the fire, watching the tip slowly begin to glow orange. "How long have you been with the group?"

"Since the beginning," Daryl replied in a low voice. Now it was his turn to poke a stick in the fire, dislodging a crumble of embers and making them smoke. "Me and Merle, we met up with 'em right outside Atlanta." He dropped the stick and continued to sharpen his arrow, not meeting my eyes.

"Who's Merle?" I asked curiously. Lori had continued to fill me in over the past few days about everything that had happened; the quarry and the attack that killed Andrea's sister, more detail about the CDC, and their time on the road. She hadn't mentioned a Merle.

"My brother." Daryl's voice was rough and he hesitated. "He's not with the group anymore." His voice had a tone of finality in it, and I knew not to press him further. He seemed like an extremely private person, always keeping his distance from the group and not talking much when he did come around. I said nothing, just nodded and continued to stare into the embers. Silence overcame us again and after another twenty minutes or so, I felt my eyes slipping shut.

"I'm going back to bed," I mumbled. "Night." Daryl didn't reply, but I could feel his eyes on me as I carefully made my way back to the tent, slipping inside and dropping onto my sleeping bag.

The next morning, I was determined to go scouting with the group. As tired as I still was, I was going stir-crazy in the camp, especially watching Andrea tramp off into the woods with the rest of them. Lori tried to argue with me but I ultimately shut her down, reminding her that I was an adult. I yanked on my boots and wound my long hair into a knot, following Rick over to where had spread the map out on the hood of a battered old truck. "Andrea and T-dog, you take this grid," he said, sweeping his hand over a detailed system he had drawn out on the map. "Shane and I will take this one."

"I'm coming," I announced, leaning my elbows on the truck and squinting up at Rick in the early morning sunlight. It was already hot, and I felt a bead of sweat drip down the nape of my neck.

Rick looked uncomfortable, palming the back of his neck. "Did Lori ok this?" he asked me in his slow Southern drawl. I could feel everyone's gazes on me, including his.

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. "I'm not a kid anymore, Rick. I want to help. You can either send me out with someone or I'll just go by myself." I stared at him stoutly, fingering the machete hanging off of my belt.

"You're still stubborn as ever," Rick replied wryly, shaking his head in return. "Glad to see that even with the end of the world some things never change." Andrea and T-dog both laughed, and Shane grinned at me, a long piece of grass clenched between his teeth. "You'll go with Daryl then." I felt a surge of relied. I has been a little apprehensive that he'd send me out with Shane.

It wasn't that Shane wasn't a nice person. He was; after all, it was him who had caught me when I fainted on the highway. But something about him rubbed me the wrong way. I felt like he was constantly staring at Lori and for a brief moment, had wondered if something had happened between them before quickly dismissing the thought. I just felt like something was off about him, and tried to avoid being alone with him at all costs.

"I work faster on my own," Daryl said disagreeably, drawing me out of my thoughts and back into the present. I eyed him; his face was one of discontent as he eyed me back. "I don't need nobody slowing me down."

"We'll see who slows who down by the end of the day," I replied flatly, not breaking eye contact with him. He quirked an eyebrow at me and Shane guffawed, cocking his shotgun and stepping away from the group.

"Alright, ya'll, we gonna find this little girl or what?" We all nodded and set off across the field. The sun was quickly rising higher in the sky and I knew we'd have to make good time to cover our grids thoroughly. Rick handed me a revolver surreptitiously and I quickly tucked it into my pocket, glancing at him as we trudged through the tall grass.

"We're not supposed to carry on Hershel's land, but I don't want to send you out there unarmed. Just don't go firing it unless you have to," he said warningly. I nodded at him and then picked up the pace to keep up with Daryl, who was striding out into the woods.

We walked in silence for a while, Daryl's eyes glued to the ground. Dale had told me that Daryl was an incredible tracker, and I didn't want to break his concentration so I kept my mouth shut and my eyes up, scanning the woods for walkers. "I don't see nothin'," Daryl said after about an hour, throwing his hands up in frustration. "The trail's clean gone." I chewed my lip, glancing around us.

"What's that?" I asked suddenly, peering through the leaves and down a rocky hill towards the riverbank. I could see a scrap of red bobbing in a puddle. Daryl swung around, crossbow aimed, and saw the red as well. He immediately loped towards the edge of the hill and began to make his way down it. I followed and he surprised me by offering me a grimy hand as we picked our way down a particularly treacherous part of the slope. Once I was on solid ground, he jerked his hand away, obviously uncomfortable with contact. He made his way over to the puddle and picked up what turned out to be a doll.

"This is Sophia's," he mumbled, staring at it intensely. "She's gotta be around here somewhere." He took off and I cursed under my breath as I tried to keep up with his pace, pushing through the dense underbrush. We had to have gone almost two miles when he stopped, putting a hand up silently. I almost slammed into the back of him but caught myself just in time. He turned to me, his blue eyes burning in his face, and put a finger to his lips. I nodded and a crash behind me made me whirl.

A walker was standing less than two feet from me, his stench rising off of him. I fought down a gag and in seconds had cleaved off half of his head with my machete. Daryl whistled, his crossbow raised and ready to fire. "Jesus, Rick wasn't kidding, you're quick," he remarked as he shouldered his crossbow. "Let's keep moving." I swiped my machete clean in a pile of leaves and sheathed it again, setting off behind him.

When we returned to camp, it was almost dark out and Lori was pacing around the camp; I could see her from the edge of the field. I jogged over to her and hugged her. "I'm fine, see?" I said, showing her that I was unharmed. "Is dinner ready? I'm starving." I glanced at Daryl, who was handing Carol the ten or so squirrels he had bagged over the course of the day.

"Were you with Daryl all day?" She asked in a low voice. She put an arm around my shoulders and led me over to the washtub, where I quickly washed my hands and splashed water on my face. The sun was almost set and the sky was a pretty corally pink; I stopped to admire it as I stood and dried my face.

"Yeah," I said simply. "So?" I shook my hair out of its knot, the curls bouncing down my back, and went into the tent to change my sweaty shirt.

"Well, are you alright? I can't believe Rick sent you out with him." She sat down on her air mattress, staring at me and shaking her head. I made a face at her as I yanked off my filthy tank top, tossing it into the laundry pile.

"What's wrong with Daryl? He seems fine. Doesn't talk much, but whatever." I pulled on a clean long-sleeved shirt that had been rolled up at the bottom of my backpack and kicked off my boots to change my socks before pulling them back on.

"I don't know, I don't know how I feel about him," Lori said worriedly, pushing her hair off of her face. "I don't want you going out with him again." She sat back on the air mattress, worry creasing her face.

"Stop," I said firmly. "Daryl is perfectly fine. Don't you think it's time to stop being a snob with the end of the world and all? Besides, he owes me, I put down a walker in the woods today and saved both our asses." Lori went pale and I sighed, sitting down next to her and patting her arm comfortingly. "Come on, Lori."

"Who are you?" she asked quietly as she turned to me and studied my face. "This is not the same Addison I knew." Confusion clouded her hazel eyes.

I went still, shifting my own eyes to the opposite wall of the tent. "Things have changed. I've changed. I had to." I stood abruptly. I felt guilty blowing Lori off, but the last thing I wanted to talk about were the experiences that had forced me to become the person I was now – tougher, stronger, and a little bit colder. I stomped over to the fire, where Carol handed me two plates full of food.

"Run this over to Daryl, will you?" she said absentmindedly, turning sizzling meat in an iron skillet. I tromped over to where Daryl was sitting in a camping chair, gazing out over the field at the last vestiges of the setting sun. He too had changed into a clean shirt and washed his face and hands, giving him a much more civilized appearance.

"Here," I said, handing him the plate. He grunted his thanks and instead of returning to the group, I sat down next to him on the ground. He stood, motioning for me to sit in the chair. "I'm good," I replied. "Stretch my legs out." I leaned back on the grass as if to prove my point. I could see Lori staring at me from her spot near the fire and dropped my eyes to my plate.

"I think your sister's worried about you," Daryl said, swallowing and sweeping a hand across his mouth. I didn't reply, just took a bite of squirrel and shrugged. "She's real happy you're back, you know."

"I am too," I said evenly. We both lapsed back into quiet before Daryl spoke again, to my surprise.

"You coming out scouting again tomorrow?" he asked. I grinned at him, nodding. "Good," he said gruffly. "I could use your help. You're pretty damn good with that machete." With that, he stood and walked over to the fire, dropping his plate into the washtub and then disappearing into the darkness. I watched him go, studying his form as he faded from sight.

A little while later, Lori came over with a guilty look on her face. "I'm sorry," she said, dropping down beside me. We both lay back on the grass almost in unison, staring up at the clear sky filled with bright stars. "I shouldn't have said that about Daryl. He's had all of our backs more than once. He's a good man."

"I think so too," I replied simply.

"And I'm sorry about what I said about you. I know you're different, we all are. I just can't stand to think about what made you have to change." I sucked in my breath sharply, and Lori turned her face to me. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

I was silent. "It's ok," I finally said. "I'm safe now, right? And I have my family again." Lori squeezed my hand and suddenly a sheriff's hat sailed through the air, landing on my stomach. I sat up to see Carl darting towards us and jumped to my feet, scuffling easily with him as Lori looked on with a smile.


End file.
